Everything closes in on me.
The distant space… separate. Continue reading
“Your hand opens and closes, opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralysed. Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding, the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as birds’ wings.”
My heart races every morning when I wake up. The fear so intense, I hide under my covers until the monster disappears. In increments of 10 minutes at a time, I talk my way out of an imaginary sticky situation, and allow myself to not fight, or run away. Continue reading